


Then You Left Me (Said You Felt Trapped)

by A_M_Kelley



Category: Bandom, Punk Rock RPF, The Clash
Genre: 1970s, AU, Angst, BAMF!Topper, Band Break Up, Closeted Character, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fingerfucking, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Topper plays matchmaker, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:06:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick's just left his boyfriend, Paul, and he's kicked out of home, leaving his band torn into shambles in the aftermath. Meanwhile, Mick's good friend Topper takes him in and sets him up with an old acquaintance from high school. While Mick's very enthusiastic to meet Joe, Paul somehow manages to burrow his way into Mick's heart in a final attempt to save what they had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by and title taken from Train In Vain by The Clash.
> 
> An alternate universe in which The Clash aren't The Clash and a lot of stuff that never happened, happens. Sound confusing? Alright.
> 
> I swear I have NOTHING against Paul. I love them all but someone had to be the jerk ex-boyfriend...

"You should come out with me tonight," Topper called over his shoulder from the bathroom only to be met with silence. He'd been trying to get Mick out of the house ever since his big break up and every time he brought up going out, Mick would clam up. "It's been nearly a month already, Mick. Time to move on."

Mick rose up from the tattered couch in the living room and made his way over to the bathroom, leaning in the doorway with a shoulder. He folded his arms across his chest as he assessed his friend in the mirror. Topper fussed with his hair and cursed a few times when it wouldn't quite cooperate. Mick smirked inwardly.

"As always, I appreciate you lookin' after me, but I'm not in the mood, Top," Mick said honestly, connecting gazes with Topper in the mirror. "Maybe I should just stay single for a bit."

Topper gave him an unconvinced grimace.

"You're just sayin' that 'cus you're waitin' for Paul to come back to ya," Topper replied knowingly, stopping to look at Mick's reflection intently. "Look, I'm sorry, but you know you can do bet'er. It's what you deserve. Besides, I told a friend of mine you'd be comin' along."

"Wot friend?" Mick inquired curiously, straightening up a little.

"Doesn't mat'er now, does it? You said you ain't comin'."

"Don't give me that crap, Topper."

Topper chuckled to himself as he rinsed off his hands, shaking them thoroughly before running them through his hair. He knew Mick couldn't resist asking until his curiosity was sated. Topper took his comb and ran it along his scalp, trying to spike up his short hair. Mick cleared his throat as if to say he was waiting for an answer.

"Come on, who is he?" Mick moaned like a frustrated child, letting himself get more interested than he really wanted to.

"Just a bloke I knew from secondary school," Topper shrugged nonchalantly. He was silently satisfied with himself.

"I mean, wot's he like? Does he like music? How old is he? At least tell me his name," Mick gushed, getting antsy. He was already getting nervous over a guy he hasn't even met and his hands trembled with adrenaline.

"He's uh... like you," Topper said slowly, trying to find the best words to describe him. He wanted Mick to come out so Topper couldn't blow this now. "He's a few years older and he also plays guitar. His name's Joe. He's really nice."

"Is he..?" Mick asked as he trailed off.

Mick never liked using labels and he was still a little ashamed from when he came out to Topper. He knew Topper didn't care but a part of Mick was still in the proverbial closet. Sometimes it felt like he was still hiding from the world. Mick had hid with Paul for so long that he sort've grew accustomed to it.

"Joe's never really said, but I'm sure he is. He seemed really excited when I told him about you," Topper said honestly. He gave up on his hair, figuring it was as good as it was going to get, and turned to walk past Mick. "You comin' then?"

Mick walked back into the living room and contemplated the benefit of going out as Topper did up the laces of his black Chuck Taylor's. It'd only been a month since his big break up and Mick still held Paul close to his heart, but Topper was right. Mick deserved better than Paul. Besides, it was just a social outing, Mick didn't need to get in a relationship if he didn't want to.

"Guess it wouldn't 'urt to at least meet 'im, eh?"

Topper practically lit up with excitement, hopping up on his feet and giving Mick a big hug. He slapped Mick on the back and went for the door, assuming Mick was ready to go. Mick didn't protest otherwise. He was comfortable with what he was wearing and if Joe was a nice guy then Mick figured it didn't matter if his clothes and upkeep were impressing or not.

Mick swiped his keys off the coffee table, just in case, and followed his friend out the front door. He didn't ask where they were going. Mick figured a pub was going to be their destination and that was cool. Have a few pints and chat up Topper until he was blue in the face. And there was Joe too. Alcohol would loosen him up a bit so he wouldn't be nervous or standoffish and if he says anything stupid he can always blame it on having a few too many.

It was cold outside and Mick immediately wished he would've grabbed his jacket. Thankfully the pub was only down the street a few blocks away. Mick often forgot that Topper lived near the more lively part of London, then again Mick never went out much anyway. He usually stayed in with Paul when they weren't officially "out". He suddenly missed those nights alone with Paul and making so much noise that the neighbors would come up to their flat to complain.

Mick shook his head, almost running into Topper when he rounded the corner. Topper pushed through the heavy wooden door of the pub, holding it open long enough for Mick to slide in next to him. Mick rubbed at his arms to bring the warmth back into them as he raked his eyes across the setting before him. There weren't many people, at least not enough to where it was obnoxiously loud. It was pleasantly quiet.

Mick watched as Topper scanned the area, face lighting up when he spotted Joe across the way. He waved to him and Mick followed the motion, trying to find out which guy Joe was and probably looking pretty stupid doing it. Topper grabbed Mick by the arm and drug him along as they made their way to the other side if the pub. Topper pulled Mick to him before they reached their designated table.

"Listen, he's not out yet so try and be a little subtle, ya?"

Mick nodded mutely.

They stopped in front of a small table and Topper was nearly tackled to the ground by an overzealous man. Mick could only assume it was Joe. Who else would be expecting them? Mick reeled back and smiled fondly as Topper was wrapped up in a cocoon of arms.

"Nice to see you too, mate," Topper chuckled breathlessly, patting Joe lightly on the back. They pulled away and Topper hooked a thumb over to his companion. "This is my mate Mick I was tellin' you about."

Joe caught his breath and turned to Mick. His smile fell short, but it wasn't because Joe was disappointed or put off by seeing Mick finally, it was because Mick had caught his eye. Joe straightened up and yanked on his jacket to smooth it out before extending a shaky hand to Mick. Mick grasped Joe's hand and sparks flew. They were both at a loss for words momentarily.

"Hi," Mick said lamely.

"Hey."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joe," Mick gushed out, not letting go of Joe's hand.

"Pleasure's all mine, Micky," Joe murmured, giving the taller man a click of his teeth and a wink.

He couldn't remember the last time someone called him Micky and he immediately identified that as a term of endearment that Joe would use from now on. And that was fine. Paul never called him Micky and it made him feel giddy, like he was special solely to Joe. He let go of Joe's hand reluctantly, biting his lip he sized Joe up.

Joe was skinny. Not grossly skinny or thin as Mick but just the right size. He was fairly tall, at least taller than Topper, but not as tall as Mick. Perhaps an inch or two shorter all in all. Mick guessed it wasn't much of a height difference after all. Joe looked like the kind of guy your mother would tell you to stay away from.

He was clad in tight ripped jeans and a leather jacket that he left unzipped, showing off a T-shirt of some obscure band Mick's never heard about. Mick was acutely aware that he was checking Joe out because Topper had cleared his throat twice to get his attention. Mick's head snapped up and Joe was blushing lightly as he grinned inwardly.

"I'm just gonna go get us some drinks. You two just sit down and have a chat, ya?" Topper clasped his hands together walking away backwards until he turned to go to the bar.

Mick walked over and pulled a chair out for Joe and Joe sat down awkwardly, blushing like this was a date. Mick bent down casually, pushing in Joe's chair as he pressed his cheek to Joe's intimately close. Joe turned his face slightly into Mick's and shivered when he felt hot breath ghost across his neck.

Taking the seat across from Joe, Mick folded his forearms on the table, grinning from ear to ear. Joe smiled right back if not a little nervously.

"Topper tells me you play guitar. You any good?" Mick asks to get a conversation rolling, but he's also genuinely interested.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! I've been playin' for about three years now," Joe answered back, placing a hand flat on the surface of the table. "Been tryin' to form a band, but... no luck."

"You rubbish, then?" Mick joked with a small chuckle and it made Joe smile a little.

"Nah, it's not that. It's everyone else that's rubbish," Joe joked right back, making Mick bust out with laughter.

"I like to think I'm alright," Mick protested.

"That's right. Topper told me you were in a band. Are you guys any good?"

"I guess we were, but it doesn't mat'er anymore. When I broke up with my boyfriend I sorta felt obligated to leave the band as well."

Joe suddenly became flustered and Mick had to guess that it was the mention of his ex who just happened to be a man. Either Topper had been wrong in his assumption about his old acquaintance or Joe was just really that uncomfortable about discussing sexuality. Mick felt somewhat guilty for making Joe feel awkward after Topper had told him to be subtle. He couldn't really help it if he talked about his past relationship with Paul.

"Sorry, I kinda forget that not everyone is out," Mick whispered secretly as he leaned across the table.

"It's not that, really. Just didn't take ya for the type to be open about your sexuality is all," Joe rushed out on a breath, fidgeting with his the teeth of his leather jacket. "Topper told me about you but... it still amazes me when a bloke talks about liking other blokes in public. I don't know how ya do it."

"It's nothin' really," Mick shrugged. It had been nerve wracking before when he came out to Topper and his band mates, but now he was completely over it and didn't care who knew. "To be honest, it kinda gives ya an adrenaline rush. Anyone could be listenin' and itchin' to put in their two quid about the topic."

"That doesn't botha ya? What people think?"

"It shouldn't 'ave to."

Mick locked gazes with Joe, looking all but serious as he let that sink in. He realized everyone was allowed to move at their own pace but Mick was just trying to show Joe that not everything was as it seemed. Homophobia ran deep in society but if you looked hard enough no one was really listening. People didn't like to get tied up in the affairs of others. It was none of their business anyway. Why should they care?

Topper came back juggling three mugs of brown ale and sat them down in front of Mick and Joe, setting his own down as he took a seat. He looked between Mick and Joe, smiling when they went quiet all of a sudden.

"Well? Drink up, then. I didn't throw down good money to have ya staring at your glasses all night!" Topper complained playfully, flailing as he did.

"Keep your hair on mate!" Mick exclaimed, grabbing ahold of his mug to pick it up as Joe and Topper did the same.

"Cheers."

They clinked their glasses together and gulped down as much as they could in one go, stopping only when they absolutely needed air. They all bolstered with laughter and cheered freely, uncaring of the world around them as they had fun without giving a single fuck.

After a few more rounds of ale they were all quite sloshed and carrying, on like they had all been friends for years. Talking about anything and everything that came to mind. Music was a popular subject between them and discussing the subject had gone very well. They all liked pretty much the same music and they all played instruments. Shit, they could be a band!

There were moments when Topper would slowly fade out of the conversation just to watch how Joe and Mick interacted with each other. Both of them got along well and they seemed very interested in one another. Mick knew how to make Joe laugh and Joe had a way of discussing more serious topics, seeming to balance each other out in just the right ways. Topper wondered how they hadn't jumped each other yet.

But even as things were going well it seemed someone just had it out for Mick. It was in the middle of a conversation Mick was having with Joe. By this time they had inched closer to each other until they were side by side and in their faces, talking at the speed of light. A familiar face had reared it's blonde head into Mick's line of sight and he had to sigh with resignation.

Paul was the last person Mick wanted to see here. It could've been by accident, a twisted turn of fate, but it all seemed too coincidental. Mick knew Topper wasn't responsible because Topper hated Paul for stepping all over Mick's heart, but there was no other explanation. Sure enough, Paul spotted Mick almost immediately, as if expecting to find him here and made his way to the trio's table.

Mick suddenly lost his friendly warm buzz and it was replaced with cold neutrality, causing hairs to prickle along his arms. Somewhere deep inside of Mick still had feelings for Paul. And why wouldn't he? Paul was the one. He was the big one and Mick would always have a place in his heart just for Paul. But the fact of the matter was that they weren't together anymore. Paul made that abundantly clear. And now he was, out of the blue.

Topper barely contained the scowl that spread across his face. Mick and Topper went silent, prompting Joe to do the same without knowing why exactly. Paul reached the table, grinning as he drummed his fingers on the wooden surface, looking between them all as if waiting for a reaction. He looked to Topper and then to Joe, eyeing him precariously until his gaze rested solely on Mick.

"Fancy seeing you lot here," Paul said with a slight smirk playing about his lips. He was wearing one of his more revealing shirts made out of fishnets and he didn't mind showing off. He was quite the exhibitionist.

"When there are plenty of other good pubs in the general vicinity..." Topper remarked dryly, letting his sarcasm drench his words. "Fancy that."

"Ay, Toppy," Paul addressed him like they were good friends. "How ya been, mate?"

"Good as gold, Paul. Good as gold."

Topper picked up his beer, hating the bitter taste of having to swallow the less than savory deviation of his nickname. Topper had never really liked Paul even when he made Mick happy. He just seemed arrogant, like he took things for granted. Namely, Mick.

"Mind if I pop a squat with you lads?" Paul asked expectantly, almost politely.

Topper sat his half empty mug down and looked to Mick who just sat there not saying a word the whole time. Topper definitely didn't want Paul sitting with them especially since Joe was here, but it was really up to Mick to make the final decision. What really mattered was Mick's comfort and Topper wasn't sure if this was a good idea.

"Mick?" Paul pleaded with a pouty lip.

It wasn't Paul's puppy pout that was charming Mick but more of the overwhelming guilt that'd course through his veins if he told Paul to high tail it out of here. Mick hated hurting people's feelings, especially ones he had strong feelings for. It was questionably his greatest weakness.

"Alright," Mick conceded with a short nod, making Paul grin from ear to ear.

The blonde grabbed a chair from an adjacent table and dragged it over, leaning the back of it against the edge of the table. He plopped down on it, cocky and half-assed, folding his arms over the top of the back rest with his legs on either side of the seat. He smiled that cheeky grin, acting as if everything was cool, and winked at Topper just to piss him off.

Topper rolled his eyes before taking another drink of his ale and Mick gave him an apologetic grimace. Paul called over to the barkeep for a pint, throwing his hand in the air in a jerking motion before turning back to the table to cast a glance over at the only unfamiliar face.

Paul bit the inside of his cheek and looked Joe up and down. Joe darted his eyes over to Paul who was eyeing him like a piece of meat and it made him a little uneasy.

"May I help you?" Joe asked with a large amount of snotty attitude.

"What's your name, ducky?"

"My name's avert-your-fuckin-eyes, blondie," Joe spat. The outburst surprised Mick and Topper but Joe wasn't going to be stared at like a prey because he was anything but.

"Ooo! Feisty little thing!" Paul chortled with a hint of mockery, holding his hands up as if to surrender. "Where did ya find this one, lads? I like 'em witty."

"It's not wit, it's irritation," Joe corrected flatly.

Before the conversation could continue the barkeep came over to set a full mug down in front of Paul and all further comebacks were forgotten. He took a big gulp of the amber liquid and made a satisfied burp afterwards, wiping the back of his hand over his lips. It got of every single one of Topper's nerves.

"So wot's goin' on tonight?" Paul inquired, looking around the table for an answer. Neither Joe nor Topper answered, leaving only Mick to deal with the annoyance he allowed to sit here.

"Nothin'. Just gettin' the London air in our lungs. Enjoyin' a pint or two. Wot's up with you?"

Mick wasn't sure as to why he was asking about Paul's plans. He wasn't exactly pre-occupied with what Paul did in his spare time anymore but his sudden appearance in this part of London spiked his curiosity. He stared at Paul dead on and his heart skipped just a beat before falling back into it's regular cadence. Paul had a way of getting under his skin.

"Me an' the lads were headin' up to Shepherd's Bush for the weekend and decided to have a little fun before we did our set up there," Paul explained, drinking more of his alcohol as he became deeply engrossed with the conversation.

"Gotta gig, then?" Mick drank from his nearly empty mug, keeping eye contact with Paul as they set their drinks down at the same time. "Didn't take ya long to replace me, ay?"

Mick's voice trembled on the edge of bitterness and hurt, sighing ruefully as Paul gave a small half shrug. He could both love and hate Paul at the same time, it was ridiculous.

"He's not as good as you, Mick," Paul assured with little hope, reaching across to grab Mick's hand which pulled away abruptly. He pulled back, frowning. "You didn't 'ave to leave in the first place. You could come back any time."

"That ship sailed away the moment ya left me, Paul. And it ain't coming back," Mick informed flatly. He threw back the rest of his beer and set the glass down with a thud, trying to stare right through Paul and make him feel all the pain he had. "That was then, this is now. And I'm down talkin' about it."

Mick stood suddenly, pushing back his chair passive-aggressively before he walked off towards the bathroom, leaving Paul sitting there dumbfoundedly with Topper and Joe trying their best to stay out of it by occupying themselves with their drinks. It didn't work for Topper for much longer.

"I hope your 'appy!" Topper accused, scowl creasing his otherwise friendly face. "He jus' got over the number ya did on 'im and now look whatcha done!"

"I should apologize," Paul said regrettably. He swung his leg over the side of the chair to straighten up and made his way to the bathroom, following after Mick.

"You should leave 'im alone is wot ya should do!" Topper called out across the bar only to be ignored by the blonde man. Topper turned back to the table and shook his head at Joe with disgust.

"Who the bloody 'ell was that wanker?" Joe asked exasperated, scoffing in the general direction of Paul's retreating form.

"That was prince-Paul-fuckin-charming," Topper sighed sarcastically, rubbing at his temples to fight an oncoming headache. "Mick's ex."

Joe sat back in his chair, looking towards the bathroom and back to his mug, deciding whether or not to follow after him. In the end he decided not to.

Mick just needed to get away from Paul and the added pressure of having Topper and Joe witness a plea of peace from his ex. A man left one of the stalls and exited the bathroom, leaving Mick alone with nothing but his rattled nerves and his reflection. He turned the faucet on and let the water run for a few seconds before splashing water onto his face. It felt calming and refreshing if only for a moment.

He looked up at his reflection and watched each bead of water that ran down his miserable face. He felt fatigued and sore all over, like he had been aged by fifty years. This is why Mick avoided going out. He should've said no to Topper like he always did but then he wouldn't have met Joe, or at least just really put him down before they properly met.

Mick was tired of jumping through hurdles just to get over Paul but the pain ran deeper than that. He had lost his boyfriend, his home, and his band all in one day. Mick has never been hurt so much in a single bound ever and he figures that nothing could be worse than that but he's mistaken as he hears the door swing open and a pair of studded boots come up from behind him.

Paul's reflection obscures the left side of the mirror and Mick closes his eyes.

"I came to apologize," Paul says as if answer the silent question that hangs heavy in the air between them. "I wanted to say I was sorry. For jus' now and the band... For everythin', really."

Mick doesn't say anything to that because he doesn't know what Paul wants to hear. He doesn't know Paul's angle or main goal in all this and frankly, Mick doesn't care anymore. Mick just wants Paul to leave his life forever and not look back.

"I've always loved ya, Mick, and I always will 'til the day I die. I've made a mess of things and now I'm regrettin' it. Please will you say somethin'?"

Mick lowered his head and shook it slowly, hating the lies that fell out of Paul's mouth. He felt like crying at the twisted things Paul was saying. It was one final mock and taunt to his pride and it stung the most.

"I want ya back, Mick," Paul admitted, wrapping his arms around Mick's slim waist and hugging him to his body.

"If ya wanted me you wouldn't 'ave left me in the first place!" Mick cried out on a harsh breath. Tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes and he bit back the sobs that demanded to be let loose. "I can't do this anymore. It hurts too damn much."

Paul tightens his arms around Mick and leans into his body fully, pressing his face into the junction of shoulder and neck. Mick doesn't fight or protest the obvious breach of personal space as Paul gets intimate.

"We never did say goodbye properly," Paul almost purrs suggestively into Mick's ear. Mick knows where this is going as Paul's hand rubsdown his stomach. "Let me make it up to ya."

There's a long moment in which Mick freezes up and lets Paul rub his hands over his flat chest and stomach, eliciting shivers and tiny gasps. Paul goes to move a hand up under Mick's shirt to let his finger tips brush against bare skin. Mick is so warm, so soft and Paul wants to touch more of him.

"We can go in one of these stalls and I'll give ya everythin'," Paul lied sweetly into Mick's ear, pressing a kiss to his neck.

It felt wrong. Mick wanted this more than anything, prayed for this for a month and now that Paul was pressing into his back, running his hands over his body, he didn't want it. Mick felt nauseous, light-headed. He could feel Paul pressing his groin into his backside and he was ready to go. Mick shuddered at the familiarity of it all.

Anyone could walk in. Topper could walk in and be disappointed at Mick or Joe could come in, broken hearted and furious. Either way Mick didn't like the scenario. Paul interrupted his train of thought by biting into his neck and rubbing the heel of his hand roughly into Mick's groin. He didn't mean for it to turn him on but old habits died hard and his feelings for Paul were still there.

Mick opened his eyes and watched as Paul ran a hand up his bare chest and let the other squeeze his growing erection. Paul kissed the side of Mick's neck sweetly, like he always had before, but it was different this time. It didn't feel right. Mick thought of Joe and how devastated the man would be if he saw this happening. What Mick felt was guilt. Like he was cheating. Mick turned around and pushed Paul away, leaving the blonde man reeling.

"I don't want everythin', Paul. I just wanted you and then you left me," Mick replied, holding his composure to the best to his abilities. "You can't come back to me after breaking my heart and kicking me out of our home."

Paul was left speechless and grounded firmly to his spot in the middle of the bathroom. He really hadn't expected Mick to refuse and now that he was he couldn't believe his ears. He put a hand on his hip. Paul could look as hot and sexy as he wanted in his fishnet shirt but Mick was through with letting his heart jump through hoops.

"But I don't wanna lose you, Mick," Paul said, not knowing what else to say. Mick just shook his head ruefully.

"You aren't losin' me, Paul. You've already lost me," Mick replied just barely above a whisper, pushing a bony shoulder roughly into Paul as he stormed past him.

The bathroom door slammed open and it made Topper and Joe turn their heads over to where they saw Mick stomping out with a storm cloud hanging over his head. Neither Topper or Joe called after Mick as they saw him leave the bar without so much as a goodbye. Joe looked to Topper biting his lip.

"Was it somethin' I said?" Joe asked Topper, frowning slightly at Mick's sudden departure.

"Mick's just been goin' through a lot lately. It's got nothin' to do with you, mate. I promise. He just... when Paul's around..." Topper's words fell short when he saw Joe frown even more. "He really digs ya, Joe."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! He almost didn't come out tonight until I mentioned you," Topper enthused honestly and it made Joe smile, perhaps blush, a little.

"Well, he's a laugh riot and cute," Joe gushed, cheeks heating up with his admission.

Topper sat down next to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder affectionately.

"Give it time, mate. He'll come 'round," Topper assured Joe with a little friendly shake. "He's just got some luggage that needs mendin'. We all do."

Joe finished his drink and hoped Topper was right.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were gloomy to say the least and too damn slow if you asked Mick. He was in one of his moods, one that could produce great ideas for music if he channeled it right. But Mick was too busy channeling his angst elsewhere. On himself.

After the run in with Paul at the pub Mick had went straight home and locked himself in his room to be alone, not thinking twice about Topper or Joe. It wasn't until he threw himself on his mattress did he even realize that he left his best mate and Joe behind to bask in confusion. Mick was sure Topper understood but he couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt, leaving Joe without so much as a goodbye.

Mick acted like a jerk and possibly ruined whatever chance he had with Joe, or at else dampened it a bit, because he wasn't thinking. He had a good reason though. Paul was the last person he wanted to see the other night and what happened in the bathroom made him flustered with that faint flicker of a flame Mick still had for Paul. He couldn't help it if he still had feelings.

But that didn't explain his current actions.

Mick was on his third day locked up in his room. He only came out when Topper was gone or when he absolutely needed to. Like to use the bathroom, get food, or get a drink. And Topper, being the good faithful friend he was, practically lived outside of Mick's bedroom door. Night and day he stood with an open ear and a watchful eye over Mick's room. He even slept propped up against the door on the second night.

He was quite aware of how much of a child he was being but Mick was a stubborn bastard and while he was willing to talk about everything else, he refused to talk about Paul or his feelings. Not only was he destructive on himself but he was pushing his only friend away. A friend who had stuck by him through the good and bad times alike. He knew Topper didn't deserve this shit.

Topper would try to coax Mick out of his room and other times, when he would give up, he'd change his tactic. Topper would start talking to, more or less, himself. He'd talk about his day or bring up funny things that happened in the past, chuckling and smiling at the door as if it were Mick himself. Mick would never respond but that didn't seem to disparage or deter Topper in the least because he knew he had to try to get Mick on his side and if Mick felt like Topper was giving up, he might clam up again.

But as the hours went on and the sun went down even Topper had to have a break. When he became to tired to stand or form coherent sentences Topper would say goodnight and excuse himself off to bed, yawning all the way. Mick's stomach would twist with guilt and it made him loathe himself further.

The next day Topper even tempted Mick with his guitar and Mick cursed the shorter man for keeping his guitar hidden whenever he left but had to hand it to Topper for playing smart, if not a little dirty. Topper even fiddles with it, plucking on the strings and tweaking it until it was out of tune. It made Mick's skin itch but Mick would die before he gave up his charade and talked about Paul. For now his guitar would have to suffer.

Oddly enough though, Topper's off key plucking and strumming inspired him a little. Mick was glad he had a pen and paper. As he listened to Topper abuse his guitar and sing some made up song Mick scribbled down a few lines of a verse, writing at the speed of light until his hand started cramp. But even after the adrenaline and success of writing a rough draft Mick discarded it and forgot about it almost immediately.

Sometimes that just happened in Mick's creative flow.

On the fifth day of Mick's lock down Topper hadn't even bothered to talk to him or try to get him to come out. Not even a hello or good morning. Mick couldn't say he was upset because it's what he deserved. His friend was only trying to help him and cheer him up and he continued to ignore Topper's pleas. Mick wasn't even sure if Topper was still home or not.

A part of him wanted to take a peek and stick his head out but the paranoid part of Mick was preoccupied with the idea of Topper doing this on purpose. Maybe Topper was just being really quiet and waiting for Mick to peek or maybe that's what Topper wanted Mick to think. Maybe Mick just needed to grow a pair and see for himself.

In the end curiosity won out and with a deep breath Mick unlatched the lock of his door and pulled it inward slowly, making it creak on it's rusted hinges. Mick winced at the sound, not wanting to make any noise in his venture, and popped his head around the corner. So far, so good. Mick stepped out, making sure to avoid all the creaky floorboards.

There was no sign of Topper anywhere and Mick sighed with relief, feeling like it was a good time to get something to eat since his stomach had been growling since last night. He walked out into the living room to get to the kitchen but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed a figure out if the corner of his eye sitting on the couch.

Mick turned towards the couch and his jaw dropped at who he saw. It wasn't Topper and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing but this had to be far more embarrassing than anything else. Sly, sly Topper, he would do something like this. Mick was sure Topper had been planning this for some time now and Mick had to hand it to his friend for putting up such a great fight.

Joe stood up quickly from his place on the couch and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his too tight jeans. Those jeans that almost distracted Mick from making his escape. Without a word to be said from either man Mick turned on a heel and ran back to his room without thinking. Once he locked his door once again he hoped Joe didn't take him running off as a personal thing because it was anything but.

Mick sat with his back braced to the door, as if reinforcing it's defense, and let his head drop back with a thud that he repeated three more times. He was really blowing it with Joe even though he didn't mean to. After a pause in the blood rushing through his veins Mick heard soft footsteps come down the hallway until they stopped right in front of his door.

There was a tentative knock on Mick's door but he doesn't answer it. He can only imagine the disappointed look on Joe's face and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Joe knocked again, not expecting Mick to answer but trying anyway. Topper told him Mick would be stubborn and told Joe to not get discouraged if he didn't respond.

"Topper invited me over," Joe informs softly, pressing his forehead to the door to listen for Mick. "He told me ya needed some cheerin' up."

No answer.

"I brought my guitar over and Topper left yours here. I was thinkin' maybe we can play somethin' together," Joe suggested but to no avail. He sighed. "Listen, I had a good time with ya the other night..."

Joe stops to listen for Mick and he hears the man on the other side of the door shift, making the door rattle a little. Joe moves down the length of the door and places his palms on the cold wood, pressing his ear flat against the surface. He knows Mick wants to say something or at least that's what Joe wants to think.

"No one understands, ya know? Except you. You know how it feels to be this way. To be different. And I feel like I can trust you, Mick," Joe gushes through the door.

It's only now that Mick realizes Joe has moved down to the floor as if to mime him through the door because Joe's voice is right by his ear. He can feel Joe pressed up against the door and he can feel the heat of his body seeping through the wood to reach him. It almost feels like Joe is right next to him without a door separating them.

"I really like you..." Joe whispers longingly. His fingertips grip against the wooden door and Joe lets his nails scratch a jagged path down, beginning to pant into the surface of the door. "Please open the door, Micky. I can't stand this wall between us."

Joe taps on the door with his nails and begins to scratch at it more firmly, dragging them in varying patterns. It sounds almost needy like an animal begging to come back inside and out of the rain. Joe's whole body is pressed firmly against it now and Mick can hear each breath the other man takes, face burning from what it implies.

"Let me in, please."

It's breathy and whiny and... Mick can't take it anymore. Joe sounds hurt and wounded like Mick has put him in this state. Mick jumps to his feet and yanks the door open, making Joe fumble slightly forward. Joe's still on the ground, on his hands and knees, and he looks genuinely concerned for Mick. Mick reaches a hand out to help Joe up and Joe takes it, feeling electricity pulse between them as they did.

"I like you too," Mick says as they become level with each other and it makes Mick's heart skip a beat at his admission. Mick blushes a little. "I'm sorry about stormin' off like that."

"It's okay. You 'ave ya reasons," Joe shrugs, giving Mick a little smile that tugs at one corner of his mouth. "Topper told me about the break up. No major details," Joe quickly throws in, blushing profusely and hoping he doesn't upset Mick. "Just... Ya know. Enough to know it wasn't my fault."

"Oh, no. No! Not at all," Mick cuts in hastily, grabbing Joe lightly by the arms as if he was fine china that could break at any hint of disinterest. "It wasn't you at all. I swear."

"I know, Micky," Joe giggles, shaking his head fondly. "I just said that, mate."

Mick blushed again, feeling too hot and embarrassed and put on the spot under Joe's scrutiny. He retreats back to his mattress and sits down, looking up as Joe walks over to join him. Joe makes sure to sit nice and close to Mick, letting him know that everything is okay, that this is okay. It's okay to move on. I like you and you like me, so lets make this happen.

Mick has his head pointed to the ground and when Joe is about to make his move and shifts he hears something crinkle. He sits back and moves again to see if it was real or just a figment of his imagination. When it happened again Joe leaned to one side and plucked a crumpled piece of paper out from under him. He held it up and smoothed it out as best as he could.

It was song lyrics and looked complete for the most part. At the top was scrawled "Train in Vain by Mick Jones" and Joe read through it twice before turning to Mick to ask about it.

"You wrote this," Joe says more than asks, handing the wrinkled paper over to Mick. Mick took it and glanced over it. He merely shrugged. "It's really good, Mick."

"It's rubbish..."

"That's only 'cus it's not finished yet," Joe teased, bumping his shoulder into Mick's playfully. Joe grinned from ear to ear and it made Mick give a small nervous smile. "If you wanna,talk about it..." Joe trails off, seeming to understand who the song is about, "...but we don't 'ave to if ya don't wanna."

"Thank you," Mick replies.

And they sit there, staring at the wall, side by side, and in silence. Nothing more needs to be said.

***********************

Mick and Joe begin to date soon after and it really takes off more smoothly than Mick would've thought. By week two of their relationship Mick has long forgotten about the Paul incident and has, for the most part, gotten over his break up. Joe is a good distraction and the chemistry is so fluid between them that Mick often feels that Joe is more like him than Paul ever was, or ever will be.

They went out whenever they felt like it, which was invariably, and always had a good time. If there was one thing that Mick missed about Paul it was his openness in public. Joe still wasn't "out" and it sort've cramped Mick's advances for public displays of affection, but he still encouraged Joe to move at his own pace. Mick wasn't selfish so much as affectionate.

Mick wasn't afraid of letting people know he had a wonderful boyfriend or even the fact that he liked men. Joe thinks that's one of Mick's best and worst qualities. Joe's proud that Mick accepts himself and puts himself out there but that piece of information isn't taken to kindly to some people and Joe's worried one day that hatred for homosexuals will be taken too far by an individual.

Joe can't help it if he's been scared into the closet, all he asks for is that Mick support him and he does.

One day during their first month as a couple Mick finally gets up the courage to tell Joe all about the break up and when he does it feels like a weight is being lifted off of his chest. Mick spares no details and explains to Joe about what happened between him and Paul.

Mick had seen Paul in bed with another man and didn't say anything for weeks and then one day Paul came clean about the affair. Paul had told Mick that things weren't working out and had the nerve to tell Mick that he felt trapped. That Mick was holding him back when it was nobody but himself. In Paul's world, being tethered to one person isn't something he wanted to aspire to.

So how did Paul repay Mick for being loyal and loving? He dumped him weeks after the fact and kicked him out of his own damn band. But thankfully Paul was merciful enough to let go of all the material, which was practically all of it, Mick had wrote. It was more than fair. They weren't really going places anyway. But it still stung that the guy who replaced Mick was the one he saw Paul having sex with.

But none of that mattered because Mick had Joe now. It's like Topper was meant to befriend both of them and bring them together after one of them had a tragic break up. It was destiny and Mick was just going through all the motions, taking things as they came. Joe was cautious too about the pace his and Mick's relationship was going.

Since Joe wasn't "out" and insecure about himself, he hasn't really been in a stable relationship. Mick is the first guy to be patient and not pressure him into doing something he doesn't want to or something he's not ready for. Most of the guys Joe had "been with" only wanted one thing and Mick wants the exact opposite. Sure, sex in a relationship is nice and keeps things passionate, but Mick was aiming for the meaning and connection two human beings experience when they're in love.

So when they were alone in Mick's room and things got a little intimate it was never awkward when Joe would want to stop when it got too heated. Mick was beyond understanding. If anything, sex with Joe was just an added bonus he was willing to wait for in an already perfect relationship. Joe would, of course, feel bad and accuse himself for leaving Mick with blue balls but Mick assured that wasn't a problem.

Mick was never sure as to why Joe wanted to wait, not that it was important, but Mick wanted to know if Joe had been taken advantage of by a man in the past or if he was just simply a nervous virgin. Mick put his money on the latter because Joe came off as a little inexperienced when they would touch or kiss. It was actually kind of endearing and cute.

But the time came when Joe was ready and Mick took his time. Going slow and gentle so Joe could feel as comfortable as he can. Mick never really minded going slow when making love, he preferred it, but fast felt good sometimes too. In the middle of preparing Joe with his fingers he mused for a moment that maybe one day Joe will trust Mick enough to want it rough. It made him feel fuzzy inside to think that Joe could be the one. The real one.

Mick kisses a line down Joe's chest, stopping only to suck a biting kiss into a protruding hip bone. Joe is watching everything Mick does and watches his lover bite and suck with a lip caught between his teeth. He is flushed a pale shade pink all over and he feels hotter than he should but Mick just has a way of making Joe fall apart underneath him.

Mick is careful in how he prepares Joe, twisting and pushing just at the right moments so Joe can open up comfortably. It takes him awhile before Joe is able to take three fingers but Mick is so gentle that it hardly hurts when he does. In fact, Joe is quite enthusiastic by this point, wanting more. And Mick doesn't disappoint.

They pause in between their lovemaking to kiss. It's passionate and somewhere between a traditional kiss and a bite. It's heated but it's not overly excessive in the heat it brings. It's enough to let Joe Know that Mick is serious about this and wants it to be as special as he sees it. They break the kiss for breath and Joe's panting because he's just too hot and bothered now to stop or go back.

He needs Mick NOW.

Mick sits back and grabs one of Joe's legs by the back of his knee and slings it over his shoulder while he holds the other with his free hand. Joe hardly notices that Mick has his legs spread so far apart that it should ache, but it doesn't. Joe is more focused on the moment when Mick consummates their relationship.

The first tentative push in is so gentle, and Mick did a good job preparing him, that it hardly hurts Joe. His previous fear of sex was blown out the window and Joe figures now that his greatest fear of painful intercourse was silly because Mick cared so much about him to make it as painless as possible. Joe really won the jackpot with Mick.

And after Mick waited patiently for Joe to adjust he still remained ever so gentle and deliberate even when Joe knew Mick wanted to thrust just a tad harder. There were thrusts that Mick let slip. From time to time his hips would stutter and jab reflexively into Joe because Mick was still a man. He couldn't help it if a few thrusts escaped his control. They didn't hurt Joe but Mick didn't want to scare him or lose all the momentum they had built up to get to this point.

Joe was panting heavily and moaning his approval to what Mick was doing, beckoning him to continue and begging for more. Joe was a writhing wreck and at some point he threw his arms above his head and began to hump himself down onto Mick's cock as best as he could. He needed more friction and just a tad bit more of passion. Mick had no choice but to give Joe what he wanted.

Mick made his thrusts a little more firm, made them known, and bent down to claim Joe's lips in a wet kiss that was all tongue and teeth. Mick's hips continued in their pace as he sucked the moans that reverberated out of Joe's throat. Joe's tongue tangled with Mick's in a passionate display of love and acceptance.

When Joe was close Mick wrapped a hand around his hard on and stroked it in time with each thrust. Joe was whimpering and climbing the walls from the stimulation and at the best possible moment he felt one of the greatest things ever. Mick was thrusting against his prostate and it drove Joe so crazy that he had to break the kiss out of fear of biting Mick's tongue off.

It was something else altogether and Joe really couldn't stop from shouting his pleasure to the whole world (even if the world was just Topper in the bedroom next to Mick's). Topper would be scarred for life and tomorrow morning he will have the look of a thousand haunted men. But right now Joe was going through his first tremors of his best orgasm and he didn't want it to stop.

Mick went to suck on Joe's neck as the man convulsed and spilt his come all over his stomach. It was a mixture of the stroking, thrusting, and sucking that did Joe in and amplified it by a hundred, making it one of the most glorious moments in his life. He was still moaning long after his orgasm had subsided and whimpered when Mick bit down harder onto his neck to stifle a shout of his own.

Mick claimed Joe as his and in the afterglow if it all either man couldn't help but feel complete in each other's arms.

*******************

Over time Mick, Topper, and Joe sort've became a band. They didn't have a bassist and it wasn't official but they jammed and wrote songs together. Joe even helped Mick finish "Train in Vain" and later found out why it was titled that. It was a song about his break up with Paul and the title is derived from the fact that Mick used to take the train just to see Paul and play in his band. But after a while it became fruitless. Mick was no longer sore about bringing Paul up anymore, in fact he often laughed about it.

Right now the three of them were in a very serious and heated debate, discussing a choice that could decide the fate of the world as we know it...

"Wot the bloody 'ell are we gonna call our band?" Joe demanded, guitar slung over one shoulder.

"If ya can even call it that..." Mick mumbled to himself while taking a sip of his drink.

"I've told you lot once before wot we're gonna be called," Topper threatens, pointing his drumsticks at Joe who holds up his hands in surrender.

Mick just shrugs and leans against Topper's drum kit, thinking idly to himself.

"The Clash does have a nice ring to it," Mick admits.


End file.
